poetry, fiction, nature, culture, compassion, love
The beauty of winter never lives within the color white
or in the silence of snowflakes surrounding, swirling
around our heads as chrystals
take shape in mid-air.
The beauty of winter
is usually found in the peace
we hold in our hearts,
sacred prayers
from the quiet within.
Well, I guess snow
is quite beautiful too.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
It snowed again today, winter surrounding the autumn flame. He put on his hat and coat, remembering his younger days running, falling down, sledding down Tucker’s Hill.
He just stood there, feeling the silence falling, even though he was older now, he suddenly had an idea, involving a trashcan lid and the thrill of sliding down – Grandma’s Mountain.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
In every gentle snow God whispers in the wind
speaking peace into our spirits,
while filling our eyes
with hope
as the earth is made new
once again.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
In the late autumn sky peace speaks of warmer days,
as a hawk confirms with his open wings,
there is frost now up high,
ready to descend,
as the leaves surrender
their colors.
Poetry and All Images © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
Have you ever let your heart run free in a snowfall?
Lifted your face to the sky, your hands to
the One, who made it all?
Snowflakes are prayers really
as nature prays for us
to be quiet
and just
be, in the snow.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
In every winter fog, the ghosts stand steady, with a mystery a shroud
covering us, but now – more of a living symbol speaking,
with our branches broken, and that we are lost,
in the forest, wandering the earth longing
to wave – our flags again.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
If I was the wind My Love, I would come to you so softly, not merely brushing your cheek
but encircling you, embracing your spirit, lifting your head as you catch your breath,
gazing heavenward, and we would dance until you are released and we both flew
through the forest touching briefly the branches covered with snow
now within our souls as we ascend into the blue
where we would so boldly plant ourselves
into the clouds, where we belong
so completely.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
